


And Though My Edges May Be Rough

by Bells_Hunt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bells_Hunt/pseuds/Bells_Hunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel can't understand why Dean's still angry after he told him the truth about Purgatory. Dean doesn't know how to say it either. Sam decides he can't just sit and watch. Title after the song "I'm Yours" by The Script, which I consider a perfect Destiel song and inspired the plot of this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I don't need to feel like hell. For failing you, okay? For failing you like I fail every other God-forsaken thing that I care about. I don't need it!"

"Dean."

 

*.*.*

 

"Dean."

He wished he could just look away. Why the hell couldn't he just look away? The angel's eyebrows were pressed in that concern he was used to see, eyes unarmed, not emotionless like they'd always be in fight, not like they'd been for the whole time in Purgatory. His own jaw was set tight and his fits fought not to ball like a teenager's, like they'd been trying not to for what it felt like hours now, though it barely passed a minute.

"Dean..." his voice was rough, his tone quiet "It was not your responsibility, this is not your blame to bear." Castiel insisted on the matter for the third time as he still got no answer from the hunter. Dean seemed froze in place, and the angel could almost see his anger reeking in the air, mixed with a pain he did not undertand. He wished he could alleviate it, with just a touch of his fingers, and he reached out for the other's shoulder, in hopes that a touch would snap him out. It did, but not quite how he had imagined.

The angel stood in place, confused as Dean hit his hand away and turned his back on him, starting to gather and throw tools he had been working on previously, back in the bag. He knew he should simply be glad. Castiel was back. One of his best friends was back. But he was not glad. He was mad and pissed and he almost wanted to throw him right back at that damned place. He had spent all the time after he was freed beating himself up every night and every day for leaving the angel behind. Considering going back. Sliced and split and torn open between leaving his baby brother again or ignoring the fact the angel was trapped in that second hell, being pursued and hunted by every single leviathan that had been sent back with Dick.

He had not slept and he'd be immediately swarmed by nightmares if he tried. Nightmares about that day. About the second he let go. About when Castiel called and claimed for him and he'd abandoned him.

Or so he had thought. Until now.

After all their effort. After all his effort. To keep Benny down with the plan. To make sure the angel would not leave in a stupid attempt to make their path easier. To save himself and the two of them. Now, Castiel was saying he'd just let go. Just like that. He'd let go and pushed Dean through the portal and left him. Again.

"Dean I do not understand what is the matter. I am here now. All is well."

There was a clear hint of distress to the angel's voice and Dean knew why. Castiel had always been used to be insightful about him. Baffling so. But right now, Dean was closing completely off and there was not a crack he could look through. He'd understood it before. He'd seen so clearly that Dean had blamed himself and he had shown him the truth in hope it'd free him. But now he had not a clue of why it seemed to have not worked.

"Get in the car."

Those were the first words Dean mustered after Castiel had shown it to him.

The angel had a new form of concern lined up on his face when the other turned around, bag on his shoulder. A guilty one. He'd planed to storm out and hopefully end that conversation with it, push it aside and deal later, as he always did, but he stopped. He stopped because he knew that expression.

"I can't, Dean. I have things I must do. Amends to make."

Dean gulped and nodded once, the line of his jaw hurtfully angled as he drew his eyes away.

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

Castiel did not follow him outside, and neither he looked back, but the angel's gaze seemed to, following him way further than a human's, all the way to the turn at the road.

He drove for about five hours straight, not a song on the radio, till he finally just had to stop on the side of the road. He got out, banging the door and opened the trunk.

His groans of effort and frustration, his shouts of pure consuming anger, echoed around him as he held the long knife that'd gotten him through all of purgatory with both hands and sliced marks open on the huge trees in front of him. When he'd finally stopped, shaking in anger, knees almost failing him, the only thing in his head was the scene Castiel had brought to his memory again and again and again, laced only by the worst memory he had about him, the angel disappearing inside a black lake.

Once he'd gotten his breath back together, he looked front and then blinked his eyes focused as he paid attention, eyebrows screwing together.

 

*.*.*

 

"Dean? Where the hell are you??"

"Found us a job."

Dean's fingers slipped over the fresh marks just some trees ahead of the ones he had marked himself. Those were not knife stripes, but claws one, and they looked as fresh as less than a night ago. Work.

He ignored the heavy tired sigh on the other line of the phone and Sam also stood quiet. He knew there was nothing he could say to convince Dean to just stop working for a single day. Instead, he asked where, and prepared to leave and meet his brother. Just as he knew he wouldn't stop Dean, the other also knew he wouldn't let him deal alone, as much as he tried to convince him he could do so. Instead, he shove the arm right back on the trunk and banged it closed, before starting the car and getting back to the road and onto the closest city. He had an investigation to do.

 

*.*.*

 

"I'm afraid if I see what I've done, I might kill myself."

Dean's eyebrows pressed as a hurtful expression took over his face, surprise, hurt and worry mixed and aggravating his lines. He opened his lips to say something, anything, Castiel's eyes still on his, but then the door opened and he cleaned his throat as he got up and pretended to listen as Sam and Castiel discussed a case he couldn't care less about. He blinked, trying to get out of that feeling creeping up his fingers and hands and torso like paralyzing venom, but what the hell was it that they were talking about anyway, cartoons?

 

*.*.*

 

"Unable to sleep?"

Dean hissed as Castiel almost gave him a heart attack. He glared at him, then moved again to the fridge as he had intended to, to get a bottle of water. "I'm fine." he answered shortly, opening the bottle so he could sooth his dry throat. When he turned around, the angel was right behind him and he jumped in place, downing his head as he panted. "Damnit, Cas!"

Castiel tilted his head to the side.

"Are you still mad?"

Dean pressed his teeth as he looked up and for a second lost track of thought as he looked at him.

"I. No. Just, let me get back to bed. It's late and I need at least two more hours before I can be on my feet."

"I can watch over you, if it helps."

Dean sighed.

"No you won't because that's creepy."

"What, Cas?"

He exasperated as the other grabbed his shoulder when he tried to leave. They were still very close and his eyes kept falling down as much as he tried to keep them up. For a moment the angel seemed lost as if confused to what he was gonna say. Slowly his grip on the other's shoulders undid and his hand fell down.

"Nothing."

Dean's lips pressed together but he just nodded and strolled back to the bed instead of stopping to ask questions, hoping this way to avoid new questions to be shot at himself. Still, his whole arm held a creepy ass tingle over it and kept him up till sunrise, his head filled with the bumping questions he didn't ask.

 

*.*.*

 

"You're staying??"

"Yes. I think this is what I'm supposed to be doing now."

Dean stared at the angel, confused, and almost didn't notice when Sam left saying he'd be in the car.

"I don't get it. First you say you're hunting with us, you push it till I say yes and now after one job you don't feel like it, anymore?"

"That's not the issue, Dean. I just think I found what I should be doing, to amend with the world. Helping."

Dean shook his head looking down.

"And hunting is what?" he asked, raising his eyes with a skeptical expression.

Castiel sighed.

"I know. But this is another type of help, one that only my kind can offer, away from your grasp, from human grasp."

Dean snorted but his expression was bitter. He shook his head.

"You just confessed to me yesterday that you've been thinking about killing yourself and now you want me to just leave you behind?? No questions asked??"

He inquired, raising eyes to him again, set and serious. Castiel breathed out and downed his head before taking a step closer.

"Dean... I will be fine." he place a hand on his forearm and squeezed it. "It was not your fault then, and it is not your fault now."

"Maybe I won't."

"What?" Castiel frowned to this mustered words, his voice sounded raspy and thick. He did hear it, but he did not understand what it meant.

Dean pulled his arm back and paced away.

"You heard me." the answer sounded like a threat, he turned to him, all the anger he'd been boiling slowly and keeping at bay suddenly pushing through his tight throat and tensed shoulders. The amount he had freed on his attack of the trees weeks ago just a tip of what he really felt. "Do you know- Do you know the kind of crap I've been dealing with all these months?! I thought it was my fault. I thought you had left again and it was my GOD DAMN FAULT! I had fucking nightmares about it!" he took times between looking at the other incredulous and tearing his eyes away as if that would help him from punching something. "And I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the shit that really happened, even if I should have because you know what?! It's all you ever freaking do." he was panting as he spoke as if it bore great effort and Castiel had his forehead sunk with concerned regretful lines, only the thick unsettled energy reeking from Dean keeping him from reaching for a touch again that could comfort him. "You leave." Dean looked at him, lips pressing tight and Castiel almost looked away like he barely ever did, because there was so much raw pain "You leave, man. All the time. And I'm sick and tired of losing people, but at least when I do I know I don't have to keep worrying about them, I know they won't be back just to leave again. And now. And now you talk about killing yourself and staying behind with no goddamn objective to your goddamned life and you expect me to just follow?! Just like that?!"

"Dean... I'm sorry." he tried, and he felt that pull he always did, encouraging him to just get closer and he half stepped forward, brows furrowing down in a thick line of worry and hurt, his hurt, Dean's hurt, Dean's hurt almost the worst part of everything he'd caused, ripping his throat as acutely as the thought of seeing what he'd done of Heaven.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING SHIT!!" Castiel's hand fell from his tentative reaching as Dean's powerful shout thumped on the walls. His breath was heavy and his shoulders tight. "I don't give one fucking shit." he repeated, breathing heavy between the words, looking angry and defeated all the same, but still tense and cold. "All you do. All you ever do-" he couldn't say it, "And I never know when you're coming back, or if you're coming back at all," he gestured evasively and frustrated, so so frustrated "or hell knows if you're planning some new shit without telling me!" he unloaded as he walked to him as if he couldn't help it and Castiel's eyes widened a bit as he did, and pointed at him. "You asked me if I'm mad?? Fuck right I'm mad!" for a moment the angel thought he'd shove him back and then he threw his hands in the air. "You know what? You wanna stay? Stay." he shrugged, wiping his lips with his thumb and forefinger out of exhaustion, "You want me to leave you behind again to do your thing, find yourself, or whatever, fine. I'll go. But if something happens. If something fucking happens to you again-" he clenched his jaw and shook his head, looking down at his tensed hands. "I don't wanna know."

He brushed past him and the windows shook at the force he used to bang the door of the motel room closed.

Sam was waiting for him.

And they had work to do.

 

*.*.*

 

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"'Bout what? We're stopping on that burger place in ten miles. And the answer to the radio is no."

Sam stared at his brother concernedly then looked down at his hands as Dean drove, eyes set on the road, anger down to the way his knuckles whitened around the wheels. In his mind Sam remembered every single love he had had and lost, down to Jessica and looked out of the window, elbow by it, fingers roaming and sticking to his hair as he watched the road without seeing it. He knew how Dean felt.

The difference was he had no choice. He had never had a choice. And neither had Dean before.

But he did now.

And he wasn't sure he could just ignore that. He wasn't sure he could just not tell him that he still had a shot at having that. That one thing Sam had given up on. Along the road he tried to work out how to say it. He had no idea if it'd work. Dean was a time-bomb when it came down to this. He could pend either way.

Sam just knew he had to try.


	2. I May Not Say The Words As Such

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives his brother a talk, in hopes to finally get through his thick skull.
> 
> Notes: As these parts I'm writing are getting way bigger than I thought they would, I'm closing it up in one more part soon, instead of writing almost twenty pages in a row.

 

Sam had intended to talk to him about it. 

He had intended to bring it up before they found out something was actually off with Cas. He had intended to bring it up afterwards when they were running between tablets and trying to make a sense of a fight that was much much bigger than the both of them. He had intended to bring it up during the trials, because they hadn't seen Cas in such a long time and it was becoming clearer and clearer to him that he might not make it through. He had intended to even use that factor to put some sense into his brother if he had to. But so many things had happened. He had not died. But Heaven did. And now Castiel was somewhere, probably without his wings, or worse, and they had no idea how to find him, or even where to begin to look. And even if his brother would rather eat his boots than muster a word, Sam could still see right through how much of a burden it had taken on him. 

He pointedly took a breath as he made his decision and then he knocked the book closed.

Dean glanced up at him just for a moment before he continued to read.

"Everything alright, bookworm?" he asked, as he ran his finger over the page before turning it. They had been doing that for three days straight. Sam had no idea if or when they'd find Cas, but he knew he had to say it and he had to say it now, before anything else happened that could stop him.

"Dean. If we find him, you have to tell him."

"Tell who what? If you're taking a break, grab me a beer, I could use it."

" _Dean._ "

The other frowned as Sam pulled the book away from him and put it aside.

"What?" he asked, his half defensive tone letting Sam know that he probably had an idea of what 'what' was.

"Cas." Dean screwed his brows and shrugged, but before the shrug Sam could see the way his eyes almost contracted, like it happened when he was trying to hold something back.

"What about him? You gonna tell me you can feel his presence, or something?"

Sam sighed.

"No. I don't know where he is. Much less why you'd ask me something like  _that_ " he frowned but brushed past it, "But  _when_ we find him, you gotta tell him. Just. Just go and tell him."

Dean banged the book closed and Sam looked back at him, raising his eyebrows and not even a bit impressed.

"Tell him what exactly, Sammy?" he asked, in a rather annoyed tone, but Sam just sighed and shook his head.

"Dean..."

"Why do I have to be the one to tell him anything?? He's the one that leaves at the first... Sign, or wind, or whatever the hell and barely gives notice."

Sam shrugged lightly.

"Does he have a reason to stay?" he retorted, quietly. Dean frowned and pressed his lips tight but before he could throw a comeback - as lame as it might be - Sam interrupted, "Dean, look. I've seen you like that before, alright? And I've only seen you like that two times before." he threw his hand as he spoke "I've seen you like that with Cassie. And I've seen you like that with Lisa-"

"What are you talking about?" Dean shook his head a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he swiftly turned on his side on the chair to look away. Sam pursed his lips.  _Very grown up, Dean._

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Look. I'm sick, and I'm tired of watching you beat yourself up again and again, and again." he said with tight lips, "Dean. _Dean._ Look at me." Dean did, noses flaring in discomfort and Sam just licked his lips, jaws popping as he tried to think. "And even back then, Dean, I've never seen you not having one reserve. Even with Lisa and Ben, you had always that... Look. That look in your eyes like you knew you were leaving soon, and don't tell me I was seeing things because I didn't even have a soul back then." he gestured, exasperated. "But with Cas, man... I get it, okay, he's an angel. He's male. It's complicated. Fine. But you can't just do nothing. Not when I can see you gotta a chance of having that back again. Even stronger than before. Better. I. I just can't sit here and not say anything."

Dean looked up, eyebrows screwed and as much as he tried to hold back, Sam could see the glassiness of his eyes. He brushed his lips in a common nervous gesture and got up, shoving the chair in place, though not as angrily as he could have done. 

"Yeah, and for what? Look how that turned out." he spat, cynically as he paced to the center of the room, breathing hard. Sam got up slowly, a sympathy in his eyes, mixed with his own pain as he walked to him and continued.

"I know that. But it's different this time." Dean huffed but Sam held his shoulder keeping him from turning away again. "It _is_ Dean. You can't tell me it's not. He's an  _angel_ okay? Most of times we're the ones trying not to get killed by something he's attracted." Dean frowned at him but Sam shook his head, "And that's fine. We got him in our fair share of trouble. What I'm trying to say. Is that he can take care of himself. And we can take care of ourselves. And we can take care of each other. It's not like before." 

Dean looked down at his shoes and then he fell sat at the couch, burying his face in his hand and squeezing it hard.

"Sam... I..." he let his hands drop and looked up, his lines heavy with pain and something deeper that Sam only saw when the issue was Cas. The way his brother looked at the angel... The pure devotion he saw right back in Cas' eyes.

"When you asked me before. Why should you give him a second chance. I said, 'because it's Cas' and you knew what I meant then Dean. You know what I mean now."

"I can't fuck up again."

Dean sounded rough and broken and Sam sighed, sitting by his side and placing a hand at his shoulder, squeezing it.

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I figure we got past that long ago. _No one_ can screw up with each other more than you two already did." Dean moved, uncomfortable but at least he finally looked at the other again. Sam nodded, slowly. "You're still here. Both of you. That means something, man. _We've_ had a harder time trying to make amends than you and Cas. Cas... Cas would do anything for you, Dean. And you know that. Look. We're all screw ups. We've all fucked up. And to be honest I don't see it getting any better any soon." Dean pressed his eyebrows, looking down and Sam knew he wanted to promise his baby brother that was not true, but couldn't find a way to do it. " _Why_ deny yourselves that? Hell, why deny _all of us_ a little freaking happiness?" he asked, an exasperation huff in his voice. 

Dean stared at his shoes as if he could make a hole into them.

"When is it that that worked for us?" he questioned, quietly. Sam blinked away the glassiness on his own eyes and pushed his hair back, taking a breath.

"It hasn't." there was silence, so he took that as liberty to go on. "But that isn't an excuse not to try again. Specially like this. Dean... I've felt like that. For real. And I lost it. Twice." he looked at his brother and Dean's jaw was popping, his throat visible as he gulped down and forced himself to look back at him and Sam had a conformed line to his lips that Dean hated to see. "Right now. And probably for a long time. There's no chance of that for me, okay? Every single time I got close to it, every single time they got hurt. And the reason I'm not with Amelia right now is because I left before she could be hurt too. But you can do it, man. For better or for worse, you and Cas are in this boat, you can do it. You can have it. And although it's never worked that well for me, I  _never stopped trying._ Jess..." Sam cleaned his throat as he looked down. "The only person I looked at like you look at Cas, was Jess... Dean." he looked up, lips tight. "She was it for me..." he shook his head as Dean tried to say something and just held his shoulder tighter, to keep their eyes leveled. "Don't wait till it's too late, Dean. Don't do that. Not because you're afraid. Not because you don't know what's gonna happen next, because you and I, more than anyone, we never know, man. We never know what's up next. And so what?? I regret a lot of stuff in my life. And maybe if I knew back then, I'd have kept my distance from any girl. But I don't regret falling for her. Not a bit."

"If I..." Dean seemed to make great effort as he tried to speak, his voice a low growl, but defeated one. "They'll use him, Sammy."

Sam snorted, though it was bitter and rest back in the couch. 

"Dean. They already do."

Dean gulped down and bit his lips into his mouth before looking up at Sam and Sam held his gaze. After a minute, he threaded his fingers through his hair roughly and patted Sam's knee as he got up, saying "He's not here now." his tone however wasn't as defensive as before, not as closed up. Sam knew his brother well enough to know he had somehow gotten to him, even if he did not know what would be the result yet.

"But we'll look." Sam affirmed though his tone had a bit of interrogation to it.

As he walked to the kitchen, Sam heard him pop open the fridge and some bottle and caught his own as Dean threw it to him on his way back, nodding as Sam opened his own bottle and took a good sip.

"We'll look."

He conceded.

"We'll find him."

He affirmed, with a gut certainty Sam hadn't seen in his lost ways in a long while. 

Sam grinned down for the first time in a long time as Dean walked back to the table and instead of reopening the books, pushed the laptop's lid open and grabbed his phone. And the other got up and walked closer to help him, after cleaning his throat and downing more of the beer.

He had done what he could.

Now he could only wait.


End file.
